Voyageur
by TheWittyOnesAreAllGone.THING
Summary: An ordinary pokemon fan from this world finds herself thrust into a different reality, where pokemon exist as a way of living rather than a franchise. She is required to adapt to this new way of life, but will she meet success or struggle while trying to cope with the change? And how did she get there in the first place? NO SHIPPING
1. Début

**AN : Hello :)**

**After a very long time spent lurking on this site I am finally writing something to share with you all. This is my first fic, and I would really appreciate if you reviewed to tell me what you think or where I could improve. I don't mind if you flame me, I will just sit back and use the flames to pop my popcorn.  
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**My grammar is probably a little bit off and I apologize for that and I know that some of my words are spelt a bit differently, that would be because I am Australian and I am using Australian spelling :).  
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**This is the prologue of the story, the Pokemon part will come in the next chapter. I'm sorry for the odd use of tense, I'm writhing this as her reflecting on the past. That should clear up in the next chapter. I think.  
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**This will be set in Johto and Kanto for now, The games that I've been playing most frequently are Soul Silver and Heart Gold. I used to play lots of Silver, Gold, Red, Yellow and Blue when I was younger too, So I'm more familiar with these areas. I do have Platinum and White and Emerald so I do have some familiarity with Hoenn, Sinnoh and Unova and I plan to take the adventure there at some point.  
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**Hopefully my updates will be quick. I hope that you enjoy:)  
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**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN POKEMON. THEY DO NOT BELONG TO ME.  
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**Rated T for some incredibly mild swearing and some violence.  
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**Please enjoy and review  
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**Thing XX  
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* * *

My unimaginably impossible journey starts on a very unremarkable day.

It was one of those days where it wasn't truly necessary for me to have to stop to think about what was going on because I had experienced the actions so many times before. Wake up, get ready, go to school, come home, sleep, repeat. A monotonous routine that we're so familiar with that it's almost been perfected into a habit.

I find it kind of funny to look back at this daily ritual of mine admittedly. It's been such a long time since my life followed such a mundane pattern that it's become unfamiliar to me.

Something happened to shatter my routine into a thousand tiny irreparable pieces, changing it and twisting it into something on an entirely different level, an inconceivable metamorphosis. As far as we can tell, there is no going back to what once existed. You see, what occurred on this deceptively normal morning had a far greater effect on my life than most would have deemed conceivable. I suppose I should start in beginning...

* * *

The shrill tones of my alarm blared out through the cold morning air, disrupting my already fading dreams and jolting my sleep hazed brain into a poor semblance of wakefulness.

Groaning I rolled over and stretched as I moved my arm out from the warm cocoon of blankets to hit the dismiss button with harder force than necessary. _Alarm clocks have a short life span when I own them_ I mused as I lingered in the warmth and comfort of my bed.

I forced myself to sit up, blinking the vestiges of sleep away and grimaced as my feet hit the cold hardwood floor.

I sluggishly made my way through the hall towards the the living room, trying to coax myself into the higher level of attentiveness that I would need to get my younger siblings into gear so that they would get ready for school.

Blinking against the bright lights of the living room and the glare of the television screen a scan of the room quickly revealed my twin brothers to be lying on the couch as they fulfilled their daily need for stylized cartoon violence and innuendo, not that they would understand it at the tender age of eight.

Sighing as I noticed that they were still in their pyjamas I switched off the TV. Met with loud and annoyed protests of "HEY!" and "I was watching that," I rolled my eyes.

"Honestly you two, I'm not sure how many times you've been told this, but you have to get ready for school _before _you watch cartoons. Go and get changed while I start breakfast."

Mumbling to each other and shooting me hostile looks, they slinked off to the bathroom to put on their uniforms. _Typical_, I thought to myself as I walked into our small, out-dated kitchen.

Don't get me wrong, the twins are good kids, but like all of the members of our family they were stubborn and argumentative in the morning. Oftentimes mornings in this house would quickly escalate into loud, nonsensical screaming matches.

Opening the fridge and peering into it I wrinkled my nose at the meagre amount of food inside and moved to look inside the pantry instead. Mum hadn't gone shopping lately. She can be slack like that at times.

She's at work often, trying to make enough money to pay for the bills and put away for us kids. It can be hard for her to get reasonable hours at times with Thursdays being the only exception.

I'm often left to take care of my three younger siblings during the rest of the week; I cooked and cleaned, did the shopping, helped with homework and had to organise things like school lunches, bed times and appointments. Responsibilities like that can cause a person to mature quickly I reflected.

Realizing that I had been staring into the cupboard for the last few minutes I grabbed some pancake mix. Not the healthiest food, but it would have to do considering the lack of cereal and bread.

Glancing at the clock I gave a small start and yelled for my sister to get out of bed. As I was setting the freshly cooked pancakes on the table she stumbled out from the hallway, hair looking like a bronzed rats nest, knotty and sticking up at gravity defying angles.

She grunted what passed as a thanks around here as I slid a plate over to her. _Definitely not a morning person_ I thought as I licked my fingers clean of the amber syrup that had oozed from the thick spongy cakes.

Peering at the clock again I made an effort to hurry as I put on my rather nondescript school uniform.

I threw my caramel coloured hair into a messy bun, not really caring what I looked like but still making sure it at least looked semi respectable. I didn't really worry about what I looked like most of the time.

I suppose I would describe myself as average. I stood taller than most with common features that weren't unattractive but neither did they truly stand out in a crowd, except for my eyes. My eyes were a striking shade of amethyst that I had inherited from my dad. I never really spared them much thought though, except for the occasional moments when I caught flashes of them in the mirror.

Biting my lip and giving my reflection a cursory glance as I made sure that my clothes weren't bunched up or caught on anything, I gave a small nod to myself, the action reflected by my doppelganger. _Good enough_ I thought.

Swiftly I made my way back into the kitchen to grab my bag, making sure that the twins were behaving as they ate. Satisfied that they wouldn't act up I burrowed through the many pocket of my bag until I found my house keys.

Turning to my sister I held them out to her. "Make sure that the lights are turned off when you leave the house yeah? Lunch is in the fridge; make sure you get it out. They're labelled. Uhh, I should be home early today alright? I'll come and get the keys off you at lunch. "

She rolled her eyes at me and nodded her head, her mouth full of juice. I walked over to the twins and ruffled their hair before giving both of them a kiss on the forehead. "Be good today yeah?" Content with their answers I gave my sister a hug.

She set the keys jangling as she made a shoo-ing motion with her hand. "You're going to be late" was her sleepy admonishment. I smiled at her.

"I'll get there, no worries" I said as I closed the front door.

Walking down the street I dug my battered old iPod out of my bag, running my fingers over the purple metal surface. Listening to music on the way to school was another one of those little habits I had, something I always did.

Iliked the music because it drowned out the buzz of the city. Often the traffic, barking dogs, screaming children, ambient city sounds and the occasional siren all blended together to create a harsh mixture of noises that I didn't particularly enjoy. It got to be too much. I found that listening to a few bars of something that was suited to my current mood was a lot more preferable.

The music helped me to focus and prompted me to walk faster to the bus stop, the rhythmical tempo of my feet slapping against the pavement increasing in pace as my brain became more attentive to the outside world, helping to prepare me for yet another long day at school.

At the thought of school I gave a mental groan. As if I needed reminding that I had early classes this morning.

It was one of the few things that I disliked about being a senior, the occasional early morning class. I knew that they were unavoidable, but sometimes having maths on an early Monday morning seemed like a cruel plot cooked up especially to torture the older students by the school board. Sometimes it seemed as if they had an "Idiotic Ideas" quota that they were required to fill.

Reaching the bus shelter unusually early I sat down on the cold metal seat, reaching into my bag yet again as I did so. Grabbing my DS, I switched it on.

It was one of my most prized possessions even though it was an older model. It was a shiny black, with a few scratches where it had inevitably been dropped over the years for which I had owned it, and most of the buttons were worn, the white ink that had once formed the "A" had now vanished and the "B" was a dull, speckled grey that was fading through to black.

Tapping the screen it switched from the blue start screen with Lugia to the menu where I pressed continue. I ended up just outside Saffron City, where I was hunting through the tall grass for Pokémon.

My current goal was to fill out the Pokédex, something that I had always wanted to accomplish. Currently I was chasing around Latios, one of the legendries that roamed the Kanto region._Latios was never actually in the Kanto area originally, It was originally from Hoenn_ I mused.

I suppose Nintendo was trying to be generous with this game. There were many legendries and pseudo legendries that one could obtain in Soul Silver and Heart Gold that hadn't been around since the first and second game generations which made it helpful for those who, like me; had started the trek along that long and difficult journey of trying to catch them all.

Now, it might seem odd to you that a sixteen year old girl was playing what could be considered a kids game, but the truth is that Pokémon is one of my favourite things. When I was younger many mornings had passed where I had snuggled into our old, worn and comfy couch with my dad and watched the antics of Ash and his friends play out on our small little television.

We had also spent countless hours battling, trading and exploring the Kanto and Johto regions together on the game adaptions of the anime before he had passed away.

Pokémon was something I'd clung to it as reminded me of those simpler times, before I had been asked to grow up quickly and become something akin to a parent to my brothers and sister.

Dad had always been busy, but he always made sure that he had set aside time to send with me. Pokémon was our thing.

He had always reminded me of Professor Oak. It might sound a little silly, but Dad had been a scientist, a microbiologist to be specific. He had been the head researcher on his team at the medical lab he had worked told me that they had been trying to create vaccines to protect people from new strains of bacteria that had developed.

I didn't fully understand how they had done that but I had picked Biology as one of my senior electives because I thought that it might have given me a basic understanding as to what he had actually done. I missed him a lot, and it helped me to feel closer to him.

I thought that it also could have been helpful in figuring out what I wanted to do when I graduated. I wasn't sure yet, but I tried my hardest in school in spite of that. I wasn't the most academic person, on average I was an A minus student but I had to work hard to get there.

I found most of what I got taught in school difficult to grasp, with the exception of art and creative writing. When I wasn't taking care of the kids, I was either studying or playing Pokémon.

Some people saw me as a bit anti-social even though I had friends. I guess it's because I didn't really get out much. I don't usually have the time to go out and do things for myself because honestly, most of my time was occupied looking after the kids. I suppose it was a rather hectic kind of lifestyle, especially for someone my age, but I didn't really mind.

If Dad's passing had taught me anything it was that family was important that that it was better to spend time with them.

Looking up as I heard the somewhat muffled roar of the old creaky school bus, I glanced back down at my game. I was currently battling against a Pidgeotto on Route 8. I wasn't having much luck with finding the Latios, even though my Pokégear was telling me that it was in this area.

Swinging myself onto the bus I made my way to my usual seat half way down the aisle. Dropping myself down onto the faded vinyl seat I returned to my search for the illusive Latios. It was one of the few Pokémon left that I had yet to catch in this particular game.

I had spent a few hundred hours roaming around the two regions, catching and evolving Pokémon and now there weren't many left for me to obtain. It didn't bother me much as I was planning to buy one of the newer generation games with the birthday money I was sure to receive in a few weeks.

I wasn't sure If I wanted to get one of the remakes of Black and White or one the original releases. I had some time to decide, but at the moment I was leaning towards getting one from the original series, because I felt odd about buying them out of order. I got mildly OCD about little things like that on occasion.

As the bus wound its way through the various streets of the labyrinth-like city I caught the occasional glimpse of its occupants.

I liked to people watch. I always made up little stories to go with the unusual characters that stood out, something that helped when it came to creating characters in my creative writing class at school. Like the man standing on the corner of First and George Street with the wild eyes,the sign and the crazy, tangled beard could be wearing an elaborate disguise and was in reality an undercover government agent tracking down the dangerous criminal that he had been charged with bringing in.

Or the lady walking along the sidewalk at an accelerated pace all hunched up ,tucking her trench coat into herself, sunglasses hiding her face and the cap pulled down to cover her ears was really a celebrity trying to blend in with the ordinary citizens while hoping to escape the crazed vindictive vultures known as the press who made her life something akin to an endless circus display, open for all the world to see with the already tattered and frayed curtain known as privacy removed to a rot as a stale heap in the corner, long since forgotten about.

I may not like the city noises but the people who inhabited it were definitely something that I found to be interesting.

During one of these momentary lapses from my game, as the bus was moving sluggishly across a set of traffic lights I happened to catch sight of a girl who I thought could have an exciting and interesting story. Her choppy hair was dyed into many different colours of the rainbow spectrum; rich azure, hot magenta, acid green, candy pink and electric turquoise being some of the prominent shades, with hints of wispy yellow and burnished orange showing I thought.

A street kid maybe, my mind weaving an intricate fabrication for her life story. Forgotten as a young child, having to survive on her own instincts to fend for herself in the dirty underbelly of this sprawling metropolis known as home, perhaps she had stumbled onto a talent that could save her from the predictable life of crime such a life would lead to. The proverbial light to the tunnel's end. Singing , or possibly art.

As I was internally debating on the finer details of her make believe story, I noticed an odd movement in my peripheral vision. Turning my head, the image that greeted me caused my entire body to freeze.

It was as if time for some reason had suddenly slowed itself so that it trickled past, dripping as slowly as the golden syrup that had coated my pancakes this morning, each second seeming to last an hour.

I made eye contact with a man driving a truck which for some reason was alarmingly close to my seat on the bus. I stared, transfixed and horrified as I watched the emotions flicker over his face. Blue eyes widening as shock set in and pupils constricting as fear overwhelmed the man. His face started to scrunch up, folding in on itself as he was bracing.

_Bracing for what?_ I thought, incredibly disorientated by this unexpected turn of events, just as time decided to just as suddenly throw itself into fast forward.

There was this deafening screeching noise, the sound of metal embracing metal drowning out everything, even my music. And for a moment, all that seemed to exist was the noise, that terrible, grating and squealing noise that had somehow managed to replace the entire world, overtaking my being just before something beneath me shook.

_The bus_, I realized as there was an overpowering flash of white across my vision as my head collided with something solid, the forgotten DS console sliding out of my hands and clattering onto the floor.

I too, rolled across the floor, the momentum of the crash sending me sprawling, fragments of glass biting deep into my skin, attacking and clawing me as I was sent to the other side of the bus, my ribs making an unpleasant crunching noise as I made contact with the seats opposite mine.

My head was ringing, and I couldn't truly make sense of what had happened, all I could really notice and focus on was the pain radiating from what felt like everywhere, stabbing and sharp and throbbing.

I tried to get my bearings, struggling to use my arm to push myself into a sitting position, yet my hand kept slipping. I noticed the dark, sticky liquid pooling on the floor beneath me. I stared uncomprehending at it for what felt like an eternity before realising it was blood.

_Where had that come from?_ I asked myself dazed, focusing on my arm. Blood was steadily falling from jagged cuts that had painted themselves onto my skin. _Right. The glass._

I picked my hand up, bringing it closer to my eyes to examine it a bit more when the bus lurched, throwing me around. There was a nauseating moment where I was airborne, my stomach turning.

My temporary flight seemed to be another one of those bizarrely suspended times. I could hear a distant screaming, something that sounded like a wild animal dying, the last thing that I could remember before my head made a sickening, dull and wet thud as it struck something solid before the world seemed to fold in front of me and fade to a black nothingness.

* * *

**Please tell me what you think :)**

**Thing XX  
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	2. Awakening

Warning: this could be considered graphic, if you're squeamish or cannot handle some medical gore for whatever reason, I suggest you skip the first part.

* * *

Bright white light spilled from overhead from what appeared to be a non-existent source, blinding me as I blinked against its stark harshness, trying to make sense of where I was.

Dimly I became aware that I was moving, the light above me becoming duller occasionally as I seemingly glided underneath it. It was a disconcerting experience, to be moving, but not truly having control over where my body was headed.

It was though a fog blocked out the world, distorting my ability to think. I felt as though I was dreaming, but something ominous lurked on the edge of my hazy mind, an unpleasant bitterness on my tongue that had me convinced that I was awake. Heaviness wound its way through my stomach, unpleasant and thick.

The cloud that settled over my mind had also cast its shadow over my senses. My vision blurred as I stared upwards, unable to distinguish exactly what it was moving above me. My hearing was muffled, as though someone had placed cotton wool over my ears, and I caught snippets of sound that I had trouble understanding.

"**_Adolescent caucasian female…*beep beep*…-tiple lacerations, suspected internal blee-…tried to teach me how…..severe injury to upper….*click*….-ssble spinal damage…awake when I'm….state of shock…*beep beep*.…ETA to A&E…..…blood transfusions..….-sponsive."_**

Muddled words floated through my head, intertwining with a distantly familiar tune, a constant, harsh beeping and a mechanical hum. The odd assortment of noise added to my uneasiness, further proof that I was awake – my dreams rarely included sound.

Suddenly something was hovering above me; a dark shape that was haloed by the incandescent light above.

Straining my eyes I tried to give it some clarity, striving to make sense of the shapes floating to front of me. The straight line there could be a nose – or was it a jawline? _No, a nose!_ I realised as two blue orbs came into focus and revealed themselves to be eyes. _ It was a person!_

Belatedly, I noticed that their mouth was moving, and I struggled to comprehend what they were saying. "-r me? If you can hear me, please squeeze my hand?" The voice sounded concerned and distant, as if I was trying to hear through wall, but I managed to understand the gist of what they wanted.

_Squeeze the hand? Sounded easy enough_. Concentrating, I tried to extend my senses further than sight and sound, stretching my awareness to the rest of my body.

Abruptly, agony flared through me, as though reaching out with my senses had opened a hidden flood gate, a tidal wave of pain crashed through me as my muscles involuntarily constricted against the pain.

I had never felt anything on this level before, its presence savagely replacing any coherent thoughts with white hot pain. The person was forgotten as my mind sought to escape from this sudden, brutal, onslaught. Again, fog covered my world, thicker than before.

The irritating, shrill, beeping from before picked up its incessant pace in the background, causing a rise in the disjointed buzzing that had to belong to voices. I felt a brief, almost unnoticed flash of annoyance towards it, a tiny blip on my radar compared to the pain that was wreaking havoc on my body.

I barely noticed that soft, soothing voice from earlier speaking to me, individual words lost on me, their efforts reduced to a steady murmur before a slightly cold sensation brushed against my arm.

A thick drowsiness seemed to encompass me, convincing me that I needed to sleep, anything to get away from this pain. I welcomed the unexpected leaden weight of my eyelids, pink filling my vision as they slid closed, seeking flight from the claws of agony that gripped me.

* * *

I ascended the path to wakefulness rather sluggishly, my mind lazily spiralling upwards from sleep, slowly bringing my attention to the heavy dull feeling that had settled over me. It reminded me of the rare times that I had overslept, as if my body wanted to linger in the unfamiliar luxury of laziness.

Fluttering my eyelids open I was forced to squint against the sterile white of the room I was in.

_Where am I? _I wondered, drawing in a deep breath of air that was laced with the chemical smell of disinfectant.

Trying to moisten my lips, I caught sight of a drip in my arm. _ What? Why is that there? What happened?_

A slight noise to my right caught my attention, something halfway between a cough and somebody clearing a throat. Turning my head I saw a woman standing in the doorway. She threw a bright smile my way, a cheery jaunt to her steps as she walked into the room. "Finally awake I see. Hello. I'm the nurse on duty right now. How are you feeling?"

_Finally? How long had I been asleep? _

"Fi-ne. A bit tir-ed." was my rusty reply, my voice sounding thick and hoarse as though it hadn't been used in a fair while. I grimaced to myself, my throat felt dry and cracked, I needed something to drink.

The nurse nodded, as though she had expected to hear something like that. "That's normal, nothing to worry about" she grinned. "Can I get you anything?"

"Water" I croaked, not liking how heavy the word felt. I watched her as pottered about in the corner, filling up a paper cup to bring over. I thanked her as she handed it to me, and took a sip. Relief bloomed in my throat as I swallowed the water. "Why am I here?" I asked as she moved towards the end of the bed.

The nurse frowned slightly, eyes tightening – blue that seemed distantly familiar. "Don't you remember?" She questioned, traces of concern adorning her features as she picked up the clipboard at the end of the bed.

I paused, trying to think back. _I remember getting on the bus to school. Looking for Latios on my DS. There was something I was staring at through the window. Oh. Ohh. _Unwanted images sprung unbidden to the forefront of my mind.

A kaleidoscope of coloured hair, the terrified stare of the truck driver, my DS clattering onto the floor, the inhuman screaming of metal on metal, the warped innards of a bus, twisted beyond belief.

"The bus crashed" I whispered, horrified, freezing as the memory of the accident replayed itself in my head.

A sympathetic look passed across the nurse's face. "I'm sorry" She said, looking sombre for a moment before returning to her more cheerful persona.

"You took quite the blow to the head you know. I just want to ask you a few little questions and do a few little tests just to make sure everything's okay up there alright?"

Still reeling at the implications of the crash, I just grunted in agreement. "Okay, we'll start with an easy one" She grinned "What's your name?"

_That was a pretty easy question. _"Evelyn" I answered distractedly. "Evelyn Maple" tacking on my surname as an afterthought.

"Evelyn huh?" The nurse echoed the corners of her lips quirking up into a smile. "That's a pretty name. Mine's Joy." She said happily as she scrawled it down onto the clipboard.

"Thanks." I smiled back at her. _A nurse named Joy huh? How cool. _"Now what about your date of birth?"

_Another easy question. _"The Third of April, Nineteen Ninety Six" I stated confidently, the familiar words rolling off my tongue.

"Oh, So you turn seventeen In just over a week then? That's exciting." She said perkily, flashing me yet another grin.

_This woman and her damn grins...wait. What?! A Week?! But my birthday was just over a month and a half away. That would mean…_

"Nurse," I began quietly, "How long have I been asleep for?"

An uncomfortable look made its way on to her face.

"Well you see dear, you were pretty beaten up. You had some heavy internal bruising and all those nasty glass cuts everywhere. Not to mention that big old bump on your noggin. The doctors had to put you into a bit of a deep sleep for a little while, while you got better. You're almost all better now; most of those scratches have healed up, except for a few of the nastier cuts, and your stitches will come out very soon, we were just waiting for you to wake up. Your poor ribs might feel a little tender though; you'll have to be careful with how you move for a little while okay? You banged them up pretty good" She explained, a hesitant smile on her face as she looked away, not quite meeting my eyes.

_My god, I was in a coma. _There was silence for a moment as I absorbed the information.

"How long?" I questioned again, suddenly feeling an overwhelming need to know that one fact.

"Just over three weeks." She said quietly, still fiddling with the clipboard.

_Three weeks,_ I thought to myself dazedly.

For some reason that sounded like an unimaginably long amount of time. I knew that in actuality it wasn't very long at all, but my head seemed to repeat that like it was a mantra, so I couldn't avoid it. _Three weeks. Three weeks. Three weeks._

I felt slightly guilty. Mum would have had to take that time off work to care for the kids. And school. _ I'll have a lot to catch up on _I worried, biting my lip.

The nurse's voice cut off my internal musing.

"I'm just going to ask you to do a few little things now to test your reflexes alright sweetie?" she asked, gazing at me, waiting for approval. I just nodded, and she threw me another quick smile.

The chatter was kept to a minimum as the nurse performed a few simple tests to ensure that my reaction rates were functioning on an average level and after being given the all clear and informed that the doctor would be in to see me soon, Joy left with a jolly smile and little wave, her name reflected by her optimistic nature.

Sighing I stared out smallish window to the left of the room. The glass was slightly murky with traces of dirt littering its panes, but there was still a rather unobstructed view of the city skyline.

Still pondering over the fact that I had been in a coma, I realized that there was something that seemed a little off, something I couldn't quiet put my finger on that didn't add up. My eyebrows scrunched together as I tried to grasp whatever it was that I was missing. It would come to me, I was sure. It was just a matter of time.

A knock on the door frame drew my interest back to the right side of the room where an elderly man with a robust figure and square glasses was standing, holding a tray in his left hand and a stethoscope in his right.

He raised one eyebrow. "Yer up then" was his gravelly assessment, his voice carrying something that sounded similar to a Scottish accent.

"Good." He took a step into the room, his movement stiff, joints showing the signs of his age. " I'm Dr. Ruthman. We have erhbit to talk abouts we do."

* * *

Sitting on a brightly decorated bench near one of the exists to the hospital gardens and a pen in my left hand poised to draw, I stared absentmindedly down at the yellow lined paper of the notebook that one of the nurses at the reception desks on my ward had very kindly managed to procure for me.

The bland hospital room had gotten to me; the walls have eventually started to feel as though they were closing in, like some kind of cage designed to trap me.

I had ventured outside in hopes that sketching something would help me to relax. It had soothed me a little to be in the open air, the methodical scribbling of pen on paper calming me some.

Now though, I had found my mind drifting back to that odd feeling that I had gotten earlier when waiting to speak to the doctor. It was if I was forgetting something, but for the life of me I couldn't remember what exactly it was.

The doctor had sat me down to talk to me about a few things.

First and foremost was the extent of the injuries that I had received that particular discussion using many large words that I didn't comprehend.

I had eventually managed to break it down into a simplified list; multiple scratches from the glass, most of which had already grown over, the new skin a dusky pink. There was one rather noticeable exception; a line of deep jagged cuts that had started on the back of my right hand and had wound their way up my arm to my elbow, marring the skin. They had needed stitches, which the doctor had removed earlier.

Fractured ribs were another thing; tiny hairline cracks that I had been told were healing nicely, although I had found that moving the wrong way caused a dull ache to radiate from them.

Internal bruising, which made sense as I had been thrown around like I was a living ragdoll on the bus.

The last injury that I had added to my little list was something that I found rather alarming; the rather large cut that made its way from the left temple to the back of my head, curving down to end across the nape of my neck.

The line was an angry red, little puckered patches of skin lined the sides of the monstrosity where the stitches had been.

The hair around it was missing; it had been shaved off, at contrast with the rest of my lengthy caramel strands. Dr. Ruthman had told me that it had been a necessity to assess the wound.

He has told me that this particular wound had been dangerous – it had put me at the risk of not only spinal damage, but severe brain damage as well.

When the team of ER doctors had assessed me and noticed my high state of shock and the dangerously large amounts of blood I had lost they had decided to put me in a coma in hopes of reducing the risk of brain damage, keeping me under until I was in the safe zone.

It worried me, and I was amazed at how lucky I was right now, to have lived through that accident. _It could have gone so much worse….._

There was something else that the doctor had picked up on in my blood work, the gist of his complex medical jargon eluded me, but what it broke down into was the fact that I had missed a particular series of important vaccinations over the course of my life.

He had explained what they were for to me, stressing how they were not only important for my safety, but something important for those around me – they were to protect everybody from a virus that had been created a few years ago.

I still wasn't really sure what that meant, - _I thought viruses were born? _But when he had asked me if I wanted to get the injections done I had tentatively nodded my head.

Mum had always had her suspicions towards vaccinations after Dad had passed, yet I didn't share her reservations.

_If Dad could spend his time developing them, then they couldn't really be that dangerous could they?_

Sighing, I tried to shake those thoughts. I didn't really want to think about Dad, not right now, when I was already feeling frazzled.

Instead I concentrated back on the paper, my pen sketching out a pair of anime eyes, swiftly followed by a face, and a body. No-one in particular, just doodling.

My pen went back to trace a couple of lines more heavily, the thick black ink creating the illusion of depth.

Pausing I surveyed my work. A warrior faced me from the yellowed pages, a heroic stance, tattered cape rippling out in the breeze. Determination coloured his gaze as he faced an unseen, off-page challenge. A few of the lines were wrong, and the proportions were a bit dodgy, but I was pleased with it.

Flicking over the page, I started on another picture, mapping out intricate, meaningless patterns, something that absorbed my concentration. Lines twined around each other, a tangled web of ink.

A flash of movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention. Turning my head, I frowned at the object lying next to me that previously hadn't been there. Reaching out with my injured hand I picked it up for a closer look.

It was a feather, unlike any I'd seen before. It was about as long as my index finger, crafted out of some kind of silvery metal. Iridescent light reflected from it, rainbows spinning from its surface. I was amazed at the detail that had gone into it; each individual filament was light and flexible, all sprouting from the metal shaft, just like a real feather. The edges looked sharp, but I wasn't about to touch them to find out.

I was puzzled, confused about how the metal feather had landed on the bench next to me. Surely something with such an exquisite amount of craftsmanship behind it would be worth some kind of money. _So why is it here? _I mused. Pursing my lips, I surveyed the area, hoping to catch a glimpse of its owner. My search revealed nothing except a lone bird soaring high above the city and the nurse that had been sent to watch me as I relaxed.

Taking a deep breath of city air I dismissed the silly notions half forming in my head. _Birds aren't made of metal._

I froze for a second as my eyes rested on an unfamiliar skyscraper towards the edge of the city. _When did that get built? _ I wondered. Obviously I had missed its construction - It wasn't common for me to venture out from my little section of the sprawling metropolis, yet the fact that it had gone entirely unnoticed made me wince. _I need to get out more. _

Eyes drifting back to the feather, I squinted at it as I moved it this way and that, changing its angle to see the sun gleam off it's odd surface. I hadn't seen any kind of metal like it before. Hoping that whoever owned it would forgive me, I tucked it into the pocket of the crisp, starched hospital pants I was wearing. I would turn it into the nurse later I figured, but for now I was content to keep enjoying the space and fresh air, eager to stay away from the heady, repulsive scent of antiseptic and the looming walls of my hospital room.

Despite my contention to bask in the late winter sun, the nurse was determined to keep me on a schedule now that I had woken up, so it was inevitable that I found myself back in the dull room, attempting to munch on the mushy, cardboard- flavoured anomaly that passed as hospital food.

My gaze roamed over the place, taking in the speckled, marble flooring and the faint cracks in the ceiling. Disquiet settled over me again as I observed my surroundings. There was something not right here, something missing, I decided as I stared around at the too-white room. Something about the lack of colour disturbed me. _It'll come to me_, I figured. I had trouble remembering things sometimes – part of the reason I spent so long studying, but I had found over the years that things would come easier to me if I didn't push at it too hard.

Instead, I tried to focus on other, less worrisome things, but not many were forthcoming. My mind was still in partial shock over the fact that I had been in an accident, one serious enough to put me in a coma – induced or otherwise. I could feel weariness settle into my bones as the strain of today took its toll, and despite the fact that it was still early – the sun was still up, I sunk into sleep.

* * *

Hello again!

I had meant to get this out much sooner, but I've been having a few issues lately - my internet has been very dodgy and I managed to slice up my hand, making typing a pain, but I'm mostly recovered now, so here's hoping for faster updates. Also, random, there is a tornado meant to hit my house at somepoint tonight. It's odd as I don't live in an area that usually gets tornadoes - I think that there has been one in the last 50 or so years.

Thank you very much for the reviews, I'm very glad to receive them, the feedback is brilliant. I'm hoping to improve as a writer as this gets posted, so please keep them coming.

Small note; I'm not entirely sure as to how the seasons cycle during the year in Kanto, so I've decided to have winter fall over the Christmas holiday period which plays along with my plot ideas nicely.

DISCLAIMER: Pokemon never has and never will belong to me.

Anyways, here is the next chapter, I hope that you enjoyed it, please tell me what you think.

Thing XX


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